Freneau 


The  American  Village 


1772 


The  third  publication  of  the  Club  for  Colonial  Reprints 
of  Providence,  Rhode  Island 


ONE     HUNDRED     COPIES 


The  American  Village 

A  Poem  by 
Philip     Freneau 


Reprinted   in   facsimile  from  the  original 

edition  published  at  New  York 

in  1772,  with  an  introduction 

by 

Harry  Lyman   Koopman 

and 


Bibliographical   Data 
by 

Victor   Hugo   Paltsits 


Providence,  Rhode  Island 
1906 


ON      COMCAN 

•      PROVIDENCE,   R. 


Table   of  Contents 


1  Page 

Introduction,  by   Harry  Lyman   Koopman  vii 

Facsimile  of  a  Letter  from  Freneau  to  Madison  ix 

The  American  Village             ....  '.,<,    ;   .         ,23 

Facsimile  Title 25 

Facsimile  of  Text       .          .          .          .  .          .          27 

Bibliographical  Data,  by  Victor  Hugo  Paltsits  .          .          55 


Introduction 

by 

Harry  Lyman    Koopman 

Librarian  of  the 
Brown  University  Library 


Facsimile  of  the  first  page  of  a  letter 
written  by  Philip  Freneau  to  James 
Madison. 

From  the  original,  preserved  among 
the  papers  of  President  Madison,  now 
in  the  Library  of  Congress. 


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IHILIP  FRENEAU  at  nineteen, 
four  years  before  the  outbreak 
of  the  Revolution,  celebrated  in 
a  metrical  dialogue  on  the  com 
mencement  stage  of  Princeton 
College  The  Rising  Glory  of 
America.  A  year  later,  after 
an  unsatisfactory  experience  at  private  teaching,  he 
launched  his  first  venture  on  the  sea  of  literature  — 
the  slender  volume  before  us.  In  these  youthful 
productions  he  was  unconsciously  preparing  himself 
to  take  a  position  in  the  front  rank  of  the  Patriots 
in  the  wordy  warfare  which  accompanied  and  some 
times  determined  that  of  the  musket  and  the  cannon. 
He  was  destined  in  the  coming  battle  for  Liberty  to 
win  laurels  equal  to  those  of  his  two  great  fellow- 
satirists,  Hopkinson  his  elder,  and  Trumbull  of  his 
own  age  ;  but  he  was  to  be  carried  in  the  press  of  the 
conflict  far  from  the  peaceful  scenes  beloved  of  his 
youthful  Muse ;  and  one  of  the  striking  features  of 
the  book  before  us  is  the  absolute  unconsciousness  of 
its  author  regarding  the  tremendous  events  that  were 
then  so  closely  impending  as  to  seem  to  us  at  this 
distance  already  to  have  enveloped  the  poet  and  his 
country. 


[  x  ]  Introduction 

THE  earliest  mention  of  the  volume  here  for 
the  first  time  reproduced  is  contained  in  the 
letter   of  Freneau   to    his   classmate,   James 
Madison,  dated  Somerset  County,   Maryland,  Nov. 

22,    1772: 

"  I  have  printed  a  poem  in  New  York  called  the 
American  Village,  containing  about  450  Lines,  also 
a  few  short  pieces  added  ;  I  would  send  you  one  if 
I  had  a  proper  opportunity  —  the  additional  poems 
are, —  i.  a  Poem  to  the  Nymph  I  never  saw — The 
miserable  Life  of  a  Pedagogue  —  and  Stanzas  on  an 
ancient  Dutch  house  on  Long  Island  —  As  to  the 
main  poem  it  is  damned  by  all  good  and  judicious 
judges  —  my  name  is  in  the  title  page,  this  is  called 
Vanity  by  some  —  but  *  who  so  fond  as  youthful  bards 
of  fame  ?'  " 

Of  the  four  poems  in  the  book,  The  American 
Village,  The  Farmer  s  Winter  Evening,  The  Miserable 
Life  of  a  Pedagogue,  and  Upon  a  Very  Ancient  Dutch 
House  on  Long  Island,  the  first  and  third  were  not 
reprinted  by  the  author  in  any  collective  edition  of 
his  works ;  the  second  was  reissued  in  the  edition 
of  1786  as  The  Citizen's  Resolve.  Written  IJJO; 
while  the  last,  as  Pattee  suspected,  is  the  poem  re- 


Introduction  [  xi  ] 

named  The  Deserted  F arm-House  and  published  in 
the  Freeman's  Journal  for  May  18,  1785.  The  fact 
that  "the  main  poem"  was  "damned  by  all  good 
and  judicious  judges"  may  or  may  not  be  indicative 
of  the  number  of  copies  sold;  but  it  is  certain  that 
the  exclusion  of  this  poem  from  Freneau's  later  vol 
umes  sufficed  to  conceal  for  a  hundred  and  thirty 
years  his  first  independent  publication.  Aside  from 
the  great  bibliographical  interest  of  the  little  volume, 
which  is  heightened  by  the  exceeding  rarity  of  books 
issued  from  the  press  of  its  printers,  it  develops  an 
unexpected  literary  importance.  In  any  case,  the 
first  book  of  an  American  poet  of  such  quality  as  to 
attract  his  English  contemporaries,  Scott  and  Camp 
bell,  to  the  point  of  plagiarism,  could  not  be  lacking 
in  interest ;  but  this  little  quarto  of  thirty  pages 
makes  a  special  appeal  to  us  by  reason  of  the  light 
it  throws  upon  Freneau's  literary  development. 

The  poem  from  which  the  volume  takes  its 
name  consists  actually  of  438  lines.  The  mention 
on  the  first  page  of  Goldsmith  and  his  "  Deserted 
Auburn"  is  a  frank  acknowledgment  of  the  in 
debtedness  of  the  poem  to  the  Deserted  Village, 
which  at  that  time  had  been  hardly  two  years 
before  the  public.  Echoes  of  Goldsmith's  Traveller 
are  heard  as  the  poem  progresses;  and  it  may  have 


[  xii  ]  Introduction 

been  Freneau's  consciousness  of  the  secondary  in 
spiration  of  his  youthful  poem  that  led  him  in  after 
years  to  neglect  it ;  for  The  American  Village  y  far 
from  lacking  literary  finish,  displays  as  high  a  tech 
nical  skill  as  any  later  production  of  its  author's. 
It  is  worth  noting  that  there  is  a  much  more  ob 
vious  suggestion  of  the  Deserted  Village  in  Freneau's 
A  New -York  Tory's  Epistle  Written  previous  to  his 
Departure  for  Nova-Scotia  than  in  the  poem  before 
us.  The  American  Village  also  offers  interesting  imi 
tations  of  Milton,  such  as  the  line 

"Or  the  slow  wave  of  silent  Acheron," 
which  is  clearly  compounded  of  Milton's 

"  Sad  Acheron  of  sorrow,  black  and  deep  .  .  . 
Far  off  from  these  a  slow  and  silent  stream, 
Lethe  the  river  of  oblivion  rolls    .   .  .  ' 

More  than  one-third  of  the  poem  is  taken  up  with 
a  defense  of  the  character  of  the  North  American 
Indian,  in  the  course  of  which  is  introduced  the 
story  of  Caffraro  and  Colma  —  euphonious  names 
more  suggestive  of  Covent  Garden  than  of  Hudson 
Bay.  There  is  a  charming  note  in  the  closing  con 
fession  of  the  poet's  literary  devotions ;  none  the  less 


Introduction  [  xiii  ] 

charming  that  it  recalls  Milton's  similar  confessions 
in  U Allegro  and  //  Penseroso.  To  Freneau's  own 
list  of  the  poets  to  whom  he  was  indebted  an  Ameri 
can  critic  adds  with  some  propriety  the  name  of 
Gray,  but  couples  with  it  —  in  sweet  oblivion  of 
chronology  —  that  of  Shelley  ! 

The  second  poem  in  the  volume,  which  is  graced 
with  the  long-drawn  title :  The  Farmer  s  Winter 
Evening,  a  Poem.  To  the  Nymph  I  never  saw,  after 
wards  received  greater  though  hardly  kinder  atten 
tion  at  the  hands  of  its  author  than  that  accorded  to 
the  first.  It  was  renamed,  changed  almost  beyond 
recognition,  and,  worst  of  all,  furnished  with  a  new 
ending  which  mocks  at  the  poet's  own  sentiment. 
The  poem  now  becomes  the  old  story  of  Horace's 
second  Epode,  which  Sargent  has  so  deftly  para 
phrased,  but  the  close  makes  none  the  less  a  discord. 
The  literary  trick  of  giving  a  good  mess  of  milk 
and  then  kicking  it  all  over  at  the  last  minute, 
though  it  afterwards  became  Heine's  favorite  device 
for  raising  a  laugh  at  sentimentality,  is  here  as  out  of 
place  as  it  is  in  Dr.  Holmes's  poem  On  Lending  a 
Punch  Bowl,  the  concluding  stanza  of  which  Sted- 
man  so  justly  condemns.  Poe's  transformation  of 
his  Lenore,  from  its  initial  to  its  final  form,  was  not 
so  fundamental  as  that  to  which  Freneau  mistakenly 


[  xiv  ]  Introduction 

subjected  his  boyish  idyl.  No  tabulation  of  the 
changes  could  possibly  make  them  clear,  and  there 
fore  the  poem  is  here  reprinted  entire  for  purposes 
of  comparison  with  the  original  form.  The  edition 
of  1809  has  been  followed ;  interesting  variants  will 
be  found  in  those  of  1786  and  1795.  The  word 
Citizen  is,  of  course,  to  be  taken  in  its  eighteenth- 
century  meaning  of  City-dweller  or  Cit. 

THE  CITIZEN'S  RESOLVE. 

"  FAR  be  the  dull  and  heavy  day 

"  And  toil,  and  restless  care,  from  me  — 

"  Sorrow  attends  on  loads  of  gold, 

"  And  kings  are  wretched,  I  am  told. 

"  Soon  from  the  noisy  town  removed 

"  To  such  wild  scenes  as  Plato  lov'd, 

"  Where,  placed  the  leafless  oaks  between, 

"  Less  haughty  grows  the  winter  green, 

"  There,  Night,  will  I  (lock'd  in  thy  arms, 

"  Sweet  goddess  of  the  sable  charms) 

"  Enjoy  the  dear,  delightful  dreams 

"  That  fancy  prompts  by  shallow  streams, 

"  Where  wood  nymphs  walk  their  evening  round, 

"  And  fairies  haunt  the  moonlight  ground. 

"  Beneath  some  mountain's  towering  height 
"  In  cottage  low  hail  the  night, 
"  Where  jovial  swains  with  heart  sincere 
"  Welcome  the  new  returning  year;  — 


Introduction  [  xv  ] 

"  Each  tells  a  tale  or  chaunts  a  song 

"  Of  her,  for  whom  he  sigh'd  so  long, 

"  Of  Cynthia  fair,  or  Delia  coy, 

"  Neglecting  still  her  love-sick  boy  — 

"  While,  near,  the  hoary  headed  sage 

"  Recalls  the  feats  of  youth's  gay  age, 

"  All  that  in  past  time  e'er  was  seen, 

"  And  many  a  frolic  on  the  green, 

"  How  champion  he  with  champions  met, 

"  And  fiercely  they  did  combat  it  — 

"  Or  how,  full  oft,  with  horn  and  hound 

"  They  chaced  the  deer  the  forest  round  — 

"  The  panting  deer  as  swiftly  flies, 

"  Yet  by  the  well-aimed  musquet  dies  ! 

"  Thus  pass  the  evening  hours  away, 
"  Unnoticed  dies  the  parting  day ; 
"  Unmeasured  flows  that  happy  juice, 
"  Which  mild  October  did  produce, 
"  No  surly  sage,  too  frugal  found, 
"  No  niggard  housewife  deals  it  round : 
"  And  deep  they  quaff  the  inspiring  bowl 
"  That  kindles  gladness  in  the  soul. — 

"  But  now  the  moon,  exalted  high, 
"  Adds  lustre  to  the  earth  and  sky, 
"  And  in  the  mighty  ocean's  glass 
"  Admires  the  beauties  of  her  face  — 
"  About  her  orb  you  may  behold 
"  The  circling  stars  that  freeze  with  cold  — 
"  But  they  in  brighter  seasons  please, 


[  xvi  ]  Introduction 

"  Winter  can  find  no  charms  in  these, 
"  While  less  ambitious,  we  admire, 
"  And  more  esteem  domestic  fire. 

"  O  could  I  there  a  mansion  find 
"  Suited  exactly  to  my  mind 
"  Near  that  industrious,  heavenly  train 
"  Of  rustics  honest,  neat,  and  plain : 
"  The  days,  the  weeks,  the  years  to  pass 
"  With  some  good-natured,  longing  lass, 
"  With  her  the  cooling  spring  to  sip, 
"  And  seize,  at  will,  her  damask  lip ; 
"  The  groves,  the  springs,  the  shades  divine, 
"  And  all  Arcadia  should  be  mine ! 

"  Steep  me,  steep  me,  some  poppies  deep 
"In  beechen  bowl  to  bring  on  sleep ; 
"  Love  hath  my  soul  in  fetters  bound, 
"  Through  the  dull  night  no  sleep  I  found ; — 
"  O  gentle  sleep !    bestow  thy  dreams 
"  Of  fields,  and  woods,  and  murmuring  streams, 
"  Dark,  tufted  groves,  and  grottoes  rare, 
"  And  Flora,  charming  Flora,  there. 

"  Dull  Commerce,  hence,  with  all  thy  train 
"  Of  debts,  and  dues,  and  loss,  and  gain ; 
"  To  hills,  and  groves,  and  purling  streams, 
"  To  nights  of  ease,  and  heaven-born  dreams 
"  While  wiser  Damon  hastes  away, 
"  Should  I  in  this  dull  city  stay, 
"  Condemned  to  death  by  slow  decays 
"  And  care  that  clouds  my  brightest  days  ? 


Introduction  [  xvii  ] 

"  No  —  by  Silenus  self  I  swear, 
"In  rustic  shades  I  '11  kill  that  care." 
So  spoke  Lysander,  and  in  haste 
His  clerks  discharged,  his  goods  re-cased, 
And  to  the  western  forests  flew 
With  fifty  airy  schemes  in  view; 
His  ships  were  set  to  public  sale  — 
But  what  did  all  this  change  avail  ? — 
In  three  short  months,  sick  of  the  heavenly  train, 
In  three  short  months  —  he  moved  to  town  again. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  Freneau  did  not  care  to 
reprint  his  vigorous  poem,  The  Miserable  Life  of  a 
Pedagogue,  for  it  too  clearly  recalls  an  unpleasant 
experience  to  have  been  agreeable  reading  for  its 
author  after  the  heat  of  composition  had  passed  off. 
He  may  also  have  felt  that  the  treatment  was  too 
crude.  But  the  memory  of  his  bad  fortnight  re 
mained  with  him,  and  we  are  reminded  of  this  poem 
by  a  later  one,  The  Deserted  Academy  —  afterwards 
altered,  and  renamed  The  Silent  Academy  —  and  still 
more  by  his  prose  sketch,  The  Private  Tutor,  in 
which  his  unhappy  experiences  behind  the  desk  are 
retold  in  a  less  autobiographical  fashion. 

The  last  poem  in  our  volume,  Upon  a  Very 
ancient  Dutch  House  on  Long  Island,  was,  like  the 
second,  altered  for  republication  almost  beyond  the 


[  xviii  ]  Introduction 

point  of  recognition.  Only  a  direct  comparison 
can  do  justice  to  the  extent  and  character  of  the 
changes  which  its  author's  perverted  judgment  dic 
tated,  and  it  is  therefore  given  below  from  the  edi 
tion  of  1809,  which  shows  the  widest  departure 
from  the  original  form.  Dome,  a  romantic  word 
for  Dwelling,  was  much  affected  by  poets  of  Fre- 
neau's  day  as  a  rhyme  to  Home. 

THE  DESERTED  FARM-HOUSE. 

This  antique  dome  the  insatiate  tooth  of  time 
Now  level  with  the  dust  has  almost  laid  ;  — 
Yet  ere  'tis  gone,  I  seize  my  humble  theme 
From  these  low  ruins,  that  his  years  have  made. 

Behold  the  unsocial  hearth  !  — where  once  the  fires 
Blazed  high,  and  soothed   the  storm-stay'd   traveller's  woes  ; 
See  the  weak  roof  that  abler  props  requires, 
Admits  the  winds,  and  swift  descending  snows. 

Here,  to  forget  the  labours  of  the  day, 

No  more  the  swains  at  evening  hours  repair, 

But  wandering  flocks  assume  the  well  known  way 

To  shun  the  rigours  of  the  midnight  air. 

In  yonder  chamber,  half  to  ruin  gone, 

Once  stood  the  ancient  housewife's  curtained  bed  — 

Timely  the  prudent  matron  has  withdrawn, 

And  each  domestic  comfort  with  her  fled. 


Introduction  [  xix  ] 

The  trees,  the  flowers  that  her  own  hands  had  reared, 
The  plants,  the  vines,  that  were  so  verdant  seen, — 
The  trees,  the  flowers,  the  vines  have  disappeared, 
And  every  plant  has  vanished  from  the  green. 


So  sits  in  tears  on  wide  Campania's  plain 
Rome,  once  the  mistress  of  a  world  enslaved; 
That  triumph'd  o'er  the  land,  subdued  the  main, 
And  Time  himself,  in  her  wild  transports,  braved. 

So  sits  in  tears  on  Palestina's  shore 
The  Hebrew  town,  of  splendor  once  divine  — 
Her  kings,  her  lords,  her  triumphs  are  no  more  ; 
Slain  are  her  priests,  and  ruin'd  every  shrine. 

Once,  in  the  bounds  of  this  deserted  room, 
Perhaps  some  swain  nocturnal  courtship  made, 
Perhaps  some  Sherlock  mused  amid  the  gloom ; 
Since  love  and  death  forever  seek  the  shade. 


Perhaps  some  miser,  doom'd  to  discontent, 
Here  counted  o'er  the  heaps  acquired  with  pain ; 
He  to  the  dust  —  his  gold,  on  traffick  sent, 
Shall  ne'er  disgrace  these  mouldering  walls  again. 

Nor  shall  the  glow-worm  fopling,  suhshine  bred, 
Seek,  at  the  evening  hour  this  wonted  dome  — 
Time  has  reduced  the  fabrick  to  a  shed, 
Scarce  fit  to  be  the  wandering  beggar's  home. 


[  xx  ]  Introduction 

And  none  but  I  its  dismal  case  lament  — 
None,  none  but  I  o'er  its  cold  relics  mourn, 
Sent  by  the  muse  —  (the  time  perhaps  mispent — ) 
To  write  dull  stanzas  on  this  dome  forlorn. 


With  its  humorous  elements  extruded,  the  poem 
becomes  flat  with  all  the  insipidity  that  was  the 
aspiration  of  eighteenth-century  poetic  elegance. 
Nor  is  our  interest  increased  by  the  forced  pleasantry 
at  the  close.  Freneau  seems  to  have  felt  that  the 
rejected  humor  was  worth  using,  for  we  find  it 
reappearing  in  A  Batavian  Picture,  a  short  poem, 
the  form  of  which  is  borrowed  from  Goldsmith's 
Traveller.  But  the  modern  reader  will  acknowledge 
that  the  original  poem  with  its  rude  genre  touches  is 
worth  both  its  derivatives. 

Freneau  at  twenty,  one  year  out  of  college,  was 
evidently  in  this  volume  casting  about  to  find  his 
bearings  in  poetry.  He  succeeded  in  these  four 
poems  in  striking  every  note  for  which  he  was 
afterwards  to  become  distinguished  —  satire,  broad 
humor,  local  picturing,  and  tender  human  sentiment. 
The  last  note,  which  is  the  rarest  in  Freneau's  later 
work,  is  the  only  one  that  preserves  him  in  grateful 
remembrance.  His  bitter  satires,  which  won  him 
fame  at  home  and  abroad,  wake  now  the  interest 


Introduction  [  xxi  ] 

only  of  the  bibliographer  and  the  student  of  po 
litical  history ;  but  his  Eutaw  Springs,  his  Wild 
Honeysuckle,  his  Indian  Eury ing-Ground,  and  his 
Honey  Bee  will  be  read  as  long  as  any  American 
writings  of  his  century ;  and  the  spirit  that  gives 
enduring  life  to  these  mature  poems  breathes  fresh 
and  fragrant  from  his  first  boyish  ventures. 

HARRY  LYMAN  KOOPMAN. 
New  Year's  Day,  1906. 


The   Reprint 


THE 


AMERICAN  VILLAGE, 

A      POEM. 

TO      WHICH      ARE      ADDED, 

Several  other  ORIGINAL  PIECES    in  VERSE. 
BY  PHILIP  FRENEAU,  A.  B. 


•Arva,  beata 


Petamus  arva,  divites  &  infulas. 

HOR.  Epod.  Ode  1 6,  V.  41,'  &  fcquentes, 


N  E  W-Y  O  R  K: 

Printed  by  S.  INSLEJS  and  A.  CAR,  on  MOOR'S  WHARF. 


M.DCC,LXXII. 


THE 

AMERICAN     VILLAGE, 


WHERE  yonder  ftream  divides  the  fertile  plain, 
Made  fertile  by  the  labours  of  the  fwain  ; 
And  hills  and  woods  high  tow'ring  o'er  the  reft, 
Behold  a  village  with  fair  plenty  bleft  : 
Each  year^taU  harvefts  crown  the  happy  field  ; 
Each  year^the  meads  their  (lores  of  fragrance  yield, 
And  ev'ry  joy  and  evVy  blifs  is  there, 
And  healthful  labour  crowns  the  flowing  year. 


weeps  in  melancholy  drains, 
Deferted  Auburn  and  forfaken  plains, 
And  mourns  his  village  with  a  patriot  figh, 
And  in  that  village  fees  Britannia  die  : 
Yet  ihall  this  land  with  rifing  pomp  divine, 
In  it's  own  fplendor  and  Britannia's  mine. 
O  mufe,  forget  to  paint  her  ancient  woes, 
Her  Indian  battles,  or  her  Gallic  foes  ; 
Refume  the  pleafures  of  the  rural  fcene, 
Defcribe  the  village  rifing  on  the  green, 
It's  harmlefs  people,  born  to  fmall  command, 
Loft  in  the  bofom  of  this  weftern  land  : 

B  So 


So  fhall  mj  verfe  run  gentle  as  the  floods, 

So  anfwer  all  ye  hills,  and  echo  all  ye  woods  5 

So  glide  ye  dreams  in  hollow  channels  pent, 

Forever  wafting,  yet  not  ever  fpenr. 

Ye  cluft'ring  boughs  by  hoary  thickets  bore  ! 

Ye  fields  high  waving  with  eternal  corn  ! 

Ye  woodland  nymphs  the  tender  tale  rehearfe, 

The  fabled  authors  of  immortal  verfe : 

Ye  Dryads  fair,  attend  the  fcene  I  love, 

And  Heav'n  (hall  centre  in  yon*  blooming  grove 

What  tho'  thy  woods,  AMERICA,  contain 

The  howling  foreft,  and  the  tiger's  den, 

The  dangVous  ferpent,  and  the  beaft  of  prey, 

Men  are  more  fierce,  more  terrible  than  they. 

No  monfter  with  it's  vile  contagious  breath, 

No  flying  fcorpion  darting  inftant  death  ; 

No  pois'nous  adder,  burning  to  enrage, 

Has  half  the  venom^or  has  half  the  rage. 

What  tho'  the  Turk  protefts  to  heav'n  his  ire, 

With  lift  up  hand  amidft  his  realms  of  fire  ; 

And  Ruflia's  Emprefs  fends  her  fleets  afar, 

To  aid  the  havock  of  the  burning  war : 

Their  rage  difmays  not,  and  their  arms  in  vain, 

In  dreadful  fury  bathe  with  blood  the  plain ; 

Their  terrors  harmlefs,  tho'  their  ftory  heard, 

How  this  one  conquer'd,  or  was  nobly  fpar'd  : 

Vaim 


[     3     ] 

Vain  is  their  rage,  to  us  their  anger  vain, 
The  deep  Atlantic  raves  and  roars  between. 

To  yonder  village  then  will  I  defeend, 
There  fpend  my  days,  and  there  my  ev'nings  fpend ; 
Sweet  haunt  of  peace  whofe  mud*  walPd  fides  delight, 
The  rural  mind  beyond  the  city  bright : 
Their  tops  with  hazles  or  with  alders  wove, 
Remurmur  magic  to  the  neighb'ring  grove ; 
And  each  qne  laboring  in  his  own  employ, 
Comes  weary  home  at  night,  but  comes  with  joy : 
The  foil  which  lay  for  many  thoufand  years 
O'er  run  by  woods,  by  thickets  and  by  bears ; 
Now  reft  of  trees,  admits  the  chearful  light, 
And  leaves  long  profpe&s  to  the  piercing  fight ; 
Where  once  the  lynx  nofturnal  Tallies  made, 
And  the  tall  chefhuttaft  .a  dreadful  (hade : 
No  more  the  panther  (talks  his  bloody  rounds, 
Nor  bird  of  night  her  hateful  note  refounds* 
Nor  howling  wolves  roar  to  the  rifing  moon, 
As  pale  arofe  (he  o'er  yon  eaftern  down. 
Some  prune  their  trees,  a  larger  load  to  bear 
Of  fruits  ne&arine  blooming  once  a  year: 
See  groaning  waggons  to  the  village  come 
Fill'd  with  the  apple,  apricot  or  plumb  ; 
And  heavy  beams  fufpended  from  a  tree, 
To  prefs  their  'juice  againft  the  winter's  day : 

Or 


[     4     ] 

Or  fee  the  plough  torn  through  the  new  made  field, 
Ordain'd  a  harveft,  yet  unknown  to  yield. 
The  riling  barn  whofe  fpacious  floor  receives 
The  welcome  thoufands  of  the  wheaten  fheaves, 
And  fpreads  it's  arms  to  take  the  plenteous  (lore, 
Sufficient  for  its  matter  and  the  poor  : 
For  as  Eumoeus  us'd  his  beggar  gueft 
The  great  UlyfTes  in  his  tatters  dreft : 
So  here  fair  Charity  puts  forth  her  hand, 
And  pours  her  bleflings  o'er  the  greatful  land  ; 
No  needy  wretch  the  rage  of  winter  fears, 
Secure  he  fits  and  fpcnds  his  aged  years, 
With  thankful  heart  to  gen'rous  fouls  and  kind, 
That  fave  him  from  the  winter  and  the  wind. 

A  LOVELY  ifland  once  adorn'd  the  fea, 
Between  New- Albion'and  .the  Mexic*  Bay  ; 
Whofe  fandy  fides*  wafli'd  by  the  ocean  wave, 
Scarce  heard  a  murmur  but  what  the  ocean  gave: 
Small  it's  circumference,  or  high  it's  coaft, 
But  (hady  woods  the  happy  ifle  could  boaft ; 
On  ev'ry  fide  new  profpeds  catch'd  the  eye, 
There  rofe  blue  mountains  to  the  arched  fky  : 
Here  thunder'd  ocean  in  conclufive  throws, 
And  dafh'd  the  ifland  as  it's  waters  rofe  : 
Yet  peaceful  all  within,  no  tumults  there, 
But  fearlefs  fteps  of  the  unhunted  hare  $ 

Andl 


[    5     ] 

And  nightly  chauntings  of  the  fearlefs  dove, 

Or  blackbird's  note,  the  harbinger  of  love. 

So  peaceful  was  this  haunt  that  nature  gave, 

Still  as  the  flars,  and  filent  as  the  grave  ; 

No  loud  applaufe  there  rais'd  the  patriot  bread, 

No  fhouting  armies  their  mad  joy  confeft, 

For  battles  gain'd,  or  trophies  nobly  won, 

Or  nations  conquerM  near  the  rifing  fun  ; 

No  clain'rous  crews,  or  wild  nofturnal  cheer, 

Or  murd'rous  ruffians,  for  no  men  were  here. 

On  it's  eaft  end  a*grovc  of  oak  4was  feen, 

And  fhrubby  hazels  fill'd  the  (pace  between , 

Dry  alders  too,  and  afpin  leaves  that  fliook 

With  ev'ry  wind,  confpir'd  to  fliade  a  brook, 

\Vhofe  gentle  dream  juft  bubbling  frorrTthc  ground, 

Was  quickly  in  the  falter^  ocean  drown'd. 

Beyond  whofe  fount,*  the  center  of  the  ifle, 

Wild  plumb  trees  flourifh'd  on  the  fhaded  foil. 

In  the  dark  bofom  of  this  facred^wood, 

Had  fate  but  fmil'd,  fomeVillage  might  whave  flood 

Secluded  from  the  world,  and  all  it's  own, 

Of  other  lands  unknowing^  and  unknown. 

Here  might  the  hunter  have  deftroy'd  his  prey, 

Transfix'd  the  goat  before  the  dawn  of  day  -9 

And  trudging  homeward  with  his  welcome  load, 

The  fruit  of  wand'rings  thro'  each  by-way  road  : 

C  Thrown 


[     6     ] 

Thrown  down  his  burthen  with  the  needlefs  figh, 
And  gladly  feafted  his  fmall  family. 
Small  fields  had  then  fuffic'd,  and  graceful  they, 
The  annual  labours  of  his  hands  to  pay  $ 
And  free  his  right  to  fearch  the  briny  flood 
For  fifh,  or  flay  the  creatures  of  the  wood. 

THUS  fpent  his  days  in  labour's  pleafant  pain, 
Had  liv'd  and  dy'd  the  homely  (hepherd  fwain  : 
Had  feen  his  children  and  his  children's  heirs, 
The  fruit  of  love  and  memory  of  years 
To  agriculture's  firft  fair  iervice  bent, 
The  work  of  mortals,  and  their  great  intent. 
So  had  the  Sire  his  days  of  pleafure  known, 
And  wifti'd  to  change  no  country  for  his  own  ; 
So  had  he  with  his  fair  endearing  wife, 
Pafs'd  the  flow  circle  of  a  harmlefs  life  \ 
With  happy  ignorance  diyhiely  blefr, 
The  path,  the  centre  and  the  home  of  reft, 
Long  might  the  fun  have  run  his  bright  career, 
And  long  the  moon  her  mantled  vifagc  rear  j 
And  long  the  ftars  their  nightly  vigils  kept, 
And  fpheres  harmonious  either  fung  or  wept: 
He  had  not  dream'd  of  worlds  befideshis  own, 
And  thought  them  only  ftars,  beyond  the  moon; 

Enjoy'd 


[     7     ] 

Enjoy'd  himfelf,  nor  hear'd  of  future  hell, 
Or  heav'n,  the  recompence  of  doing  well ; 
Had  fcarcely  thought  of  an  eternal  ftate, 
And  left  his  being  in  the  hands  of  fate. — 
O  had  this  ifle  fuch  fouls  fublime  contain'd, 
And  there  for  ages  future  fons  remain'd: 
But  envious  time  eonfpiring  with  the  fea, 
Wafh'd  all  it's  landfcapes,  and  it's  groves  away. 
It's  trees  declining,  ftretch'd  upon  the  fand, 
No  more  their  fhadows  throw  acrofs  the  land. 
It's  vines  no  more  their  cluft'ring  beauty  fhow, 
Nor  fturdy  oaks  embrace  the  mountain's  brow. 
Bare  fands  alone  now  overwhelm  the  coaft, 
Lolt  in  it's  grandeuri  and  it's  beauty  loft. 

THUS,  thof  my  fav'rite  ifle  to  ruin  gone, 
Infpires  my  forrow,  and  demands  my  moan ; 
Yet  this  wide  land  it's  place  can  well  fupply 
With  landfcapea,  hills  and  grafly  mountains  high. 
O  HUDSON  !  thy  fair  flood  (hall  be  my  theme, 
Thy  winding  river,  or  thy  glafly  ftream ; 
On  whofe  tall  banks  tremendous  rocks  I  fpy, 
Dread  nature  in  primaeval  majefty. 
Rocks,  towhofc  fummits  clouds  eternal  cling, 
Or  cluft'ring  birds  in  their  wild  wood  notes  fing. 

Hills, 


[     8     ] 

Hills,  from  whofc  fides  the  mountain  echo  roars, 
Rebounding  dreadful  from  the  diftant  ihores , 
Or  vallies,  where  refrefhing  breezes  blow., 
And  ruftic  huts  in  fair  confufion  grow. 
Safe  from  the  winds,  fecur'd  by  mountains  high, 
That  feem  to  hide  the  concave  of  the  iky, 
To  whofe  top  oft*  the  curious  hind  afcends, 
And  wonders  where  the  arch'd  horizon  bends  j 
Pleas'd  with  the  diftant  profpefts  riling  new, 
And  hills  o'er  hills,  a  never  ending  view. 
Through  various  paths  with  hafty  ftep  he  fcours, 
And  breathes  the  odours  of  furrounding  flow'rs, 
Caught  from  their  bofoms  by  the  fragrant  breath, 
Of  weftcrn  breezes,  or  the  gale  of  death.  * 
Then  low  defcending,  fecks  the  humble  dome, 
And  centres  all  his  pleafurcs  in  his  home, 
'Till  day  returning,  brings  the  welcome  toil, 
To  clear  the  foreft,  or  to  tame  the  foil* 
To  burn  the  woods,  or  catch  the  tim'rous  deer, 
To  fcour  the  thicket,  or  contrive  the  fnare. 

SUCH  was  the  life  our  great  fore-fathers  led, 
The  golden  fcafon  now  from  BRITAIN  fled, 
E'er  fince  dread  commerce  ftrctch'd  the  nimble  fail, 
And  fent  her  wealth  with  ev'ry  foreign  gale. — 

Strange 

•  South  wind. 


[    9    ] 

Strange  fate,  but  yet  to  ev'ry  country  known, 

To  love  all  other  riches  but  it's  own* 

Thus  fell  the  miftrefs  of  the  conquered  earth, 

Great  ROME,  who  ow'd  to  ROMULUS  her  birth, 

Fell  to  the  monfter  Luxury,  a  prey, 

Who  forc'd  a  hundred  nations  to  obey. 

She  whom  nor  mighty  CARTHAGE  could  withlUnd, 

Nor  flrong  JUDEA'S  once  thrice  holy  land: 

She  all  the  weft,  and  BRITAIN  could  fubdue, 

While  vi&'ry  with  the  ROMAN  eagles  flew ; 

She,  (he  herfelf  eternal  years  deny'd, 

Like  ROME  (he  conquered,  but  by  ROME  flic  dy*d : 

But  if  AMERICA,   by  this  decay, 

The  world  itfelf  muft  fall  as  well  as  flic. 

No  other  regions  latent  yet  remain, 

This  fpacious  globe  has  been  refearch'd  in  vain. 

Round  it's  whole  circle  oft'  have  navies  gone, 

And  found  but  Tea  or  lands  already  known. 

When  fhe  has  fecn  her  empires,  cities,-  kings,, 

Time  muft  begin  to  flap  his  weary  wings ; 

The  earth  itfelf  to  brighter  days  afpire, . 

And  wifh  to  feel  the  purifying  fire. 

NOR  think  this  mighty  land  of  old  contained 
The  plund'ring  wretch,  or  man  of  bloody  mind : 

Renowned 
D 


[       10      ] 

Renowned  SACHEMS  once  their  empires  rais'd 

On  wholefome  laws-,  and facrifices  blaz'd. 

The  gen'rous  foul  infpir'd  the  honed  bread, 

And  to  be  free,  was  doubly  to  be  bleft: 

'Till  the  eaft  winds  did  here  COLUMBUS  blow, 

And  wond'rng  nations  faw  his  canvas  flow. 

Till  here  CABOT  defcendcd  on  the  ftrand, 

And  hail'd  the  beauties  of  the  unknown  land  > 

And  rav'nous  nations  with  induftrious  toil, 

Confpir'd  to  rob  them  of  their  native  foil: 

Then  bloody  wars,  and  death  and  rage  arofe, 

And  ev'ry  tribe  refolv'd  to  be  our  foes. 

Full  many  a  feat  of  them  I  could  rchearfe, 

And  a&ions  worthy  of  immortal  verfe: 

Deeds  ever  glorious  to  the  INDIAN  name, 

And  fit  to  rival  GREEK  or  ROMAN  fame. 

But  one  fad.ftory  (hall  my  Mufe  relate, 

Full  of  paternal  love,  and  full  of  fate-, 

Which  when  ev'n  yet  the  northern  fli.epherd  hears, 

It  fwells  his  bread,  and  bathes  his  face  in  tears, 

Prompts  the  deep  groan,  and  lifts  the  heaving  figh, 

Or  brings  foft  torrents  from  the  female  eye. 

FAR  in  the  arctic  ikies,  where  HUDSON'S  BAY 
Rolls  it's  cold  wave,  and  combats  with  the  fea, 

A  dreary 


C    «    1 

A  dreary  region  lifts  it's  difmal  head, 

True  fitter  to  the  regions  of  the  dead. 

Here  thund'ring  ftorms  continue  half  the  year, 

Or  deep  laid  fnows  their  joylefs  vifage  rear : 

Eternal  rocks,  from  whofe  prodigious  deep 

The  angry  tiger  ftuns  the  neighboring  deep  \ 

While  through  the  wild  wood,  or  the  fhrouded  plain, 

The  moofe  deer  feeks  his  food,  but  often  feeks  in  vain. 

Yet  in  this  land,  froze  by  inclement  fkies, 

The  Indian  huts  in  wild  fucceffion  rife  •, 

And  daily  hunting,  when  the  fhort-liv'd  fpring 

Shoots  joyous  forth,  th'  induftrious  people  bring 

Their  beaver  fpoils  beneath  another  fky, 

PORT  NELSON,  and  each  BRITISH  fa<5lory: 

In  (lender  boats  from  diftant  lands  they  fail, 

Their  fmall  mafts  bending  to  the  inland  gale, 

On  traffic  fent  to  gain  the  little  (lore, 

Which  keeps  them  plenteous,  tho*  it  keeps  them  poor. 

Hither  CAFFRARO  in  his  flighty  boat, 

One  haplefs  fpring  his  furry  riches  brought; 

And  with  him  came,  for  faiPd  he  not  alone, 

His  confort  COLMA,  and  his  little  fon. 

While  yet  from  land  o'er  the  deep  wave  he  plough'd, 

And  tow'rds  the  more  with  manly  prowefs  row'd. 

His  barque  unfaithful  to  it's  trufted  freight, 

Sprung  the  large  leak,  the  meflenger  of  fate; 

But 


But  no  lament  or  female  cry  was  heard, 
Each  for  their  fate  moft  manfully  prepared, 
From  bubbling  waves  to  fend  the  parting  breath 
To  lands  of  fhadows,*  and  the  fhade  of  death. 

O  FATE  !  unworthy  fuch  a  tender  train, 
O  day,  lamented  by  the  Indian  Twain! 
Full  oft*  of  it  the  ftrippling  youth  lhall  hear, 
And  fadly  mourn  their  fortune  with  a  tear: 
The  Indian  maids  full  oft'  the  tale  attend, 
And  mourn  their  COLMA  as  they'd  mourn  a  friend. 

Now  while  in  waves  the  barque  demerged,  they  drive, 
Dead  withdefpair,  tho'  nature  yet  alive: 
Forth  from  the  fhore  a  friendly  brother  flew, 
Intone  fmall  boatf  to  fave  the  drowning  crew. 
He  came,  but  in  his  barque  of,  trifling  freight, 
Could  fave  but  two,  and  one  muft  yield  to  fate. 
O  dear  CAFFRARO,  faid  thejiaplefs  wife, 
O  fave  our  fon,  and  fave  thy  dearer  life : 
*Tis  thou  canft  teach  him  how  to  hunt  the  doe. 
Transfix  the  buck,  or  tread  the  mountain  fnow. 
Let  me  the  fentence  of  my  fate  receive, 
And  to  thy'care  my  tender  infant  leave. 
Hefigh'd,  noranfwer'd,  but  as  firm  as  death, 
Refolv'd  to  fave  her  with  his  lateft  breath: 

And 


C    '3    J 

And  as  fufpcndcd  by  the  barque's  low  fide, 
He  rais'd  the  infant  from  the  chilling  tide, 
And  plac'd  it  fafe ;  he  forc'd  bis  COLMA  too 
To  fave  herfelf,  what  more  could  mortal  do? 
But  nobly  fcorning  life,  fhe  rais'd  her  head 
From  the  flulh'd  wave,  and  thus  divinely  faid : 

OF  life  regardlefs,  I  to  fate  refign, 
But  thou,  GAFFRARO,  art  forever  mine. 
O  let  thy  arms  no  future  bride  embrace, 
Remember  COLM A,  and  her  beauteous  face, 
Which  won^thee  youthful  in  thy  gayeft  pride, 
With  captives,  trophies,  vigors  at  thy  fide; 
Now  I  ihall  quick  to  blooming  regions  fly, 
A  fprfng  eternal,  and  a  nightlefs  (ky, 
Far  to  the  weft,"  where  radiant  Sol  defcends, 
And  wonders_where  the  arch'd  horizon  ends: 
There  fhali  my  foul  thy  lov'd  idea  keep? 
And  'till  thy  image  comes,  unceafmg  weep. 
There,  tho'  the  tiger  is  but  all  a  fhade, 
And  mighty  panthers  but  the  name  they  had  •, 
And  proudeft  hills,  and  lofty  mountains  there, 
Light  as  the  wind,  and  yielding  as  the  air; 
Yet  fliall  our  fouls  their  ancient  feelings  have, 
More  ftrong,  more  noble  than  this  fide  the  grave. 

There 
E 


[     '4     ] 

There  lovely  bloflbms  blow  throughout  the  year, 
And  airy  harvefts  rife  without  our  cate : 
And  all  our  fires  and  mighty  anceftors, 
Renown'd  for  battles  and  fuccefsful  wars, 
Behold  their  fons  in  fair  fucceffion  rife, 
And  hail  them  happy  to  ferener  fkies. 
There  fhall  I  fee  thee  too,  and  fee  with  joy 
Thy  future  charge,  my  much  lov'd  Indian  boy: 
The  thoughtlefs  infant,  whom  with  tears  I  fee, 
Once  fought  my  breaft,  or  hung  upon  my  knee; 
Tell  Mm,  ah  tell  him,  when  in  manly  years, 
His  dauntlefs  mind,  nor  death  nor  danger  fears, 
Tell  him,  ah  tell  him,  how  thy  COLMA  dy'd, 
His  fondeft  mother,  and  thy  yourhful  bride; 
Point  to  my  tomb  thro'  yonder  furzy  glade, 
And  (how  where  thou  thy  much  lov'd  COLMA  laid, 
O  may  I  foon  thy  bleft  refemblance  fee, 
And  my  fweet  infant  all  reviv'd  in  thee. 
'Till  then  I'll  haunt  the  bow'r  or  lonely  (hade, 
Or  airy  hills  for  contemplation  made, 
And  think  I  fee  thee  in  each  ghoftly  fhoal, 
And  think  I  clafp  thee  to  my  weary  foul. 
Oft,  oft  thy  for-n  to  my  expeding  eye, 
Shall  come  in  dreams  with  gentle  majefty  5 
Then  {hall  I  joy  to  find  my  blifs  began 
To  love  an  ange!,.  whom  I  lov'd  a  man! 


r  *  r 

She  faid,  and  downward  in  the  hoary  deep 
Plung'd  her  fair  form  to  everlafting  fleep; 
Her  parting  foul  it's  lateft  ftruggle  gave, 
And  her  laft  breath  came  bubbling  thro*  the  wave. 

THEN  fad  CAFFRARO  all  his'grief  declares, 
And  fwells  the  torrent  of  the  gulph  with  tears; 
And  ienfelefs  ftupid  to  the  fhore  is  borne 
In  death-like  (lumbers,  'till  the  riling  morn, 
Then  forrowing,  to  the  fea  his  courie  he  bent 
Full  fad,  but  knew  not  for  what  caufe  he  went, 
'Till,  fight  diftreffing,  from  the  lonely  ftrand, 
He  faw  dead  COLMA  wafting  to  the  land. 
Then  in  a  ftupid  agony  of  pray'r, 
He  rent  his  mantle,  and  he  tore  his  hair; 
Sigh'd  to  the  ftars,  and  Ihook  his  honour'd  head, 
And  only  wifh'd  a  place  among  the  dead ! 
O  had  the  winds  been  fenfible  of  grief, 
Or  whifp'ring  angels  come  to  his  relief; 
Then  had  the  rocks  not  eeho'd  to  his  pain, 
Nor  hollow  mountains  anfwer'd  him  again  : 
Then  had  the  floods  their  peaceful  courfes  kept, 
Nor  the  fad  pine  in  all  it's  murmurs  wept; 
Nor  penfive  deer  ftray'd  through  the  lonely  grove, 

Nor  fadly  wept  the  fympathifing  dove. 

Thus 


16 

Thus  far'd  the  fire  through  his  long  days  of  pain, 
Or  with  his  offspring  rov*d  the  filent  plain  ; 
'Till  years  approaching,  bow'd  his  (acred  head 
Deep  in  the  duft,  and  fent  him  to  the  dead : 
Where  now  perhaps  in  fome  ftrange  fancy'd  land, 
He  grafps  the  airy  bow,  and  flies  acrofs  the  ftrand ; 
Or  with  his  COLMA  fhares  the  fragrant  grove, 
If s  vernal  bleflings,  and  the  bills  of  love., 

FAREWELL  lamented  pair,  and  whatever  ftate 

Now  clafs  you  round,  and  finks  you  deep  in  fate; 

Whether  the  firey  kingdom  of  the  fun, 

Or  the  flow  wave  of  filent  Acheron, 

Or  Chriftian's  heaven,  or  planetary  fphere, 

Or  the  third  region  of  the  cloudlefs  air ; 

Or  if  returned  to  dread  nihility, 

You'll  dill  be  happy,  for  you  will  not  be. 

Now  /aireft  village  of  the  fertile  plain, 
Made  fertile  by  the  labours  of  the  fwain  ; 
Who  firft  my  drowfy  fpirit  did  infpire, 
To  fing  of  woods,  and  ftrrke  the  rural  lyre : 
Who  laft  fhou'd  fee  He  wand'ring  from  thy  cells> 
And  groves  of  oak  where  Contemplation  dwells. 
Wou'd  fate  but  raife  me  o'er  the  fmaller  cares, 
Of  Life  unwelcome  and  diftrefsful  years, 

Pedantic 


C     '7     ] 

Pedantic  labours  and  a  hateful  cafe, 

Which  fcarce  the  hoary  wrinkled  fage  cou'd  .pleafe. 

Hence  fprings  each  grief,  each  long  refleaive  figh,, 

And  not  one  comfort  left  but  poetry. 

Long,  long  ago  with  her  I  could  have  ftray'd, 

To  woods,  to  thickets  or  the  mountain  fhade  j 

Unfit  for  cities,  and  the  noify  throng, 

The  drunken  revel  and  the  midnight  fong  j 

The  gifded  beau  and  fcenes  of  empty  joy, 

Which  pleafe  a  moment  and  forever  die. 

Here  then  fliall  center  ev'ry  wifh,  and  all 

The  tempting  beauties  of  this  fpacious  ball : 

No  thought  ambitious,  and  no  bold  defign, 

But  heaven  born  contemplation  lhall  be  mine. 

In  yonder  village  fhall  my  fancy  ftray, 

Nor  rove  beyond  the  confines  of  to-day  ; 

The  aged  volumes  of  fome  plain  divine, 

In  broken  order  round  my  hut  ihou'd  (bine  * 

Whofe  folemn  lines  fhould  foften  all  my  cares> 

And  found  devotion  to  th*  eternal  ftars : 

And  if  one  fin  my  rigid  bread  did  ftain, 

Thou  poetry  fliou'dft  be  the  darling  fin ; 

Which  heav'n  without  repentance  might  forgive, 

And  which  an  angel  might  commit  and  live  : 

And  where  yon'  wave  of  filent  water  falls, 

O'er  the  fmooth  rock  or  Adamantine  walls : 

F  The 


[      '8     ] 

The  fummer  morns  and  veraal  eves  fliould  fee, 

MJLTOM,  immortal  bard  my  company  $ 

Or  SHAKESPEARE,  D.RYDEN,  each  high  founding  name, 

The  pride  of  BRITAIN,  and  one  half  her  fame : 

Or^  him  who  wak'd  the  fairymufe  of  old. 

And  pleafing  tales  of  lands  inchanted  told. 

Still  in  my  hand,  he  his  foft  verfefhou'd  find 

*/-    .  * .         £t        '  %  •"  ^ 

His  verfe,*  the  pi&ure  of  the  poets  mind  : 

•    •  «  •    -4V-.          i        '*  •  '  .-  ||4i.  '' 

Or  .heavenly  POPE,"'  who  now  harmonious  mourns, 
4C  Lik*evthe  rapt  feraph  that  adores  and  burns." 
Then  in'ftiarp  fatire,  with  a* giant's* might, 
Forbids*the  blo*ckheadTand  the  fool  to  write : 

r/         -f  *^-> »-  -'  •    .    •%*# 

And  in  the  centre  of  the  bards  be  fhown 

-«•  '.  ?•*••(•          •         »•• 

The  deathlefs  lines  of  godlike  ADDISON  -, 
Who,  bard  thrice  "glorious,  all  delightful  flows, 
And  wrapt  the  foul  of  poetry  in  profe. 

Now  ceafe,  O  mufe,  thy  tender  tale  to  chaunt, 
The  fmiling  village,  or  the  rural  haunt; 
New  fcenes  invite  me,  and  no  more  I  rove, 
To  tell  of  fhepherds,  or  the  vernal  grove. 


THE 


[     '9     ] 


THE 


FARMER'S    WINTER  EVENING, 
A      P     O     E     M. 

fo  the  NYMPH  I  never  faw. 

FA  R  be  the  pleafures  of  the  day, 
.And  mirth  and  feftive  joy  from  me, 
When  cold  December  nips  the  plains, 
Or  frozen  January  reigns. 
Far  be  the  hunts-man's  noify  horn, 
Arid  courfers  fleet  thro*  thickets  borne, 
Swift  as'the\\vind,'  and  far  the  fight, 
Of  Tnowy  .mountains,  fadly  white ; 
But  thou^O^nighC^with'fober ;  charms, 
Shall  clafp^me  in  thy  fableVms. 
For  thee'.I  love  the  winter^eve, 
Thfubify^day  for  thee'j  leave. 
Beneath  fome  mountain's  *tow*ring  height, 
In  cottage' low  I  hail  the"night, 
Where  jovial  fwains,"*with  heart  fincere, 
And  timely  mirth  difliearten  care: 

Each 


Each  tells  his  tale,  or  chaunts  a  fong 

Of  her  for  whom  he  figh'd  fo  long; 

Of  CLARA  fair,  or  FLORA  coy, 

Difdaining  ftill  her  fliepherd  boy, 

While  near  the  hoary  headed  fage,. 

Recalls  the  days  of  youthful  age, 

Defcribes  his  courfe  of  manly  years, 

His  journey  thro*  this  vale  of  tears; 

How  champion  he  with  champions  met, 

And  fiercely  they  did  combat  it, 

'Till  envious  night  in  ebon  chair, 

Urg'd  fafter  oa  her  chariotteer, 

And  robb'd  him,  O  for  fhame,  of  glory 

And  feats  fit  for  renown  in  ftory. — 

Thus  fpent  in  tales  the  ev'ning  hour, 

And  quaffing  juice  of  fober  pow'r, 

Which  handfome  KATE  with  malt  did  fteep, 

To  lead  on  balmy  vifag'd  deep, 

While  her  neat  hand  the  milk  pail  {trains, 

A  fav'ry  fupper  for  the  fwains. 

And  now  the  moon  exalted  high, 

Gives  luftre  to  the  earth  and  fky, 

And  from  the  mighty  ocean's  glafs, 

Refledts  the  beauty  of  her  face : 

About  her  orb  you  may  behold, 

A  thoufand  ftars  of  burnifh'd  gold, 

Which 


C       21 

Which  flowly  to  the  weft  retire, 
And  lofe  awhile  their  glitt'rtog  fire, 

O  COULD  I  here  find  my  abode, 
And  live  within  this  fancy'd  wood, 
With  thee  the  weeks  and  years  to  pafs, 
My  pretty  rural  fhepherdefs ; 
With  thee  the  cooling  fpring  to  fip, 
Or  live  upon  thy  damaflc  lip: 
Then  facred  groves,  and  fhades  divine, 
And  all  ARCADIA  fhould  be  mine. 
Steep  me,  fteep  me  fome  poppies  deep 
In  beechenbowl,  to  bring  on  deep; 
Love  hath  my  mind  in  (hackles  kept, 
Thrice  the  cock  crew,  nor  cnce  I  fleptr. 
O  gentfe  deep,  wrap  me  in  dreams, 
Of  fields  and  woods,  and  running  ft  reams; 
Of  rivers  wide,  and  caftles  rare, 
And  be  my  lovely  FLORA  there: 
A  larger  draught,  a  larger  bowl 
To  gratify  my  drowfy  foul; 
u  A  larger  draught  is  yet  in  ftore, 
Perhaps  with  this  you  wake  no  more." 
Then  I  my  lovely  maid  fhall  fee  thee 
Drinking  the  deep  ftreams  of  LETHE,, 

Where 


Where  now  dame  ARETHUSA  fcatters 
Her  fbft  ftream'withvALPH BUS*  waters. 
To  forget  her  earthly^ cares, 
Loft  in  LETHE, ?  loft  iifyears! 
And  I  too  will  quaff  *the  water, 
Left  it  ftiould  be  faid,  O  daughter 
Of  my  giddy,  ward'ring  brain, 
I  figh'd  for  one  I've  never  feen. 


THE 

MISERABLE      LIFE 

O  F      A 

PEDAGOGUE. 

TO  form  the  manners  of  our  youth, 
To  guide  them  in  the  way  of  truth, 
To  lead  them  through  the  jarring  fchools, 
Arts,  fciences,  and  grammar  rules  , 
Is  certainly  an  arduous  work, 

Enough  to  tire  out  Jew  or  Turk  ; 

And 


[     23     ] 

And  make  a  chriftian  bite  his  nails, 
For  do  his  beft,  Tie  furely  fails ; 
And  fpite  of  all  H  that  fome  may  fay, 
His  praiie  is  trifling  as  his  pay. 

FOR  my  part  I,  tho*  vers'd  in  booking, 
Still  fav'd  my^carcafe  from  fuclTcooking  j 
Arid  jal  ways  flyly  fhunn'd  aVade, 
Too^trifling^as  I  thoughtlaind  faid  > 
Bu  t  at  a  certain  crazy  feafon, 
When  men  have  neither  fenfe  or ?  reafon  \ 
By  fbme^cohfounded  mi  fad  venture, 
I  found  myfelf  juft  in  itVjcenfre.. 

ODD*S  fifli  and  blood,  and  noun  and  neuter, 
And  tenfes  prefent,  pad  and  future  * 
I  utter'd  with  a  wicked  figh, 
^Where^are  my^ brains,  br^where  am  I  ? 
The^dulleft  creaturcTof  the  wood, 
Knows  how  to  (hun4  the  diftant  flood  ; 
Whales,  ^dolphins,  and  *a  hundred  more, 
Are  not  the  fools  to-run'afliore. 

WELL,  aow  contented  I  muft  be, 
Forc'd  by  the  dame  Neceflity, 
Who  like  the  tribunal  of  Spain, 
Let's  you  fpeak  once,  but  not  again  *  And 


Andfvift  to  execute  the  blow, 
Ne'er  tells  you  why  or  whence  it's  fo, 

Now  I  am  afk'd  a  thoufand  queftions, 
Of  ALEXANDERS  and  EPHESTIONS  •, 
With  fly  'defign  to  know'if  I 
Am  vers'd  in  GRECIAN.  hiftory  $ 
And  then  again  my  time  deftroy*, 
WithTaukward  grace  to  tell  of  TROY  : 
Fromthat  huge  giant  POLYPHEMUS, 
Quite^down  to  ROMVLVS  ,  and  REMUS. 
Then  rm^oblig'd  td'give  them  leftures, 
prTqiiadrants,  circles,  fquares"and  feclors  ; 
O/in^my%retched  memVy  bear, 
What^weighs  a  cubic*  ifTch  of  Vir. 

*c  SIR,  here's  my  fon^I  beg  you'd  mind, 
The  graces  have*  been  Very  Jtind, 

flied> 


[  Except  a  gehius'and  a  he'ad]  * 
Teach'  him  the'do61:rinetof  '!.thc;  fphere,   1 
Th^fliding"circle  and  the  fquare,  ?• 

And  ilarry  worlds^/  1  know  not"where  :      J 
And  let  him  quickly  leafrrtcT  fay, 
Thofe  learned  words  Perina,  Pcnn«  v 

Which 


Which  late  I  heard  our  parfon  call, 
As  learning,  knowledge  all  in  all." 

AND  there  a  city  dame  approaches, 
Known  by  her  horfemen,  chairs  and  coaches  : 
"  Sir,  here's  my  fon,  teach  him  to  fpeak 
The  Hebrew,  Latin,  and  the  Greek  : 
And  this  I  half  forgot,  pray  teach 
My  tender  boy — the  parts  of  fpeech — 
But  never  let  this  fon  of  me, 
Learn  that  vile  thing  Aftronomy  : 
Upon  my  word  it's  all  a  fham," — 
O  I'm  your  humble  fervant  ma'am. 

There  certainly  is  fomething  in  it 

"  Boy,  drive  the  coach  off  in  a  minute." 
And  thus  I'm  left  in  ftreet  or  road, 
A  laughing  (lock  to  half  the  crowd, 
To  argue  with  myfelf  the  cafe, 
And  prove  its  being  to  my  face. 

A  plague  I  fay  on.  fuch  employment, 
Where's  neither  pleafure  nor  enjoyment : 
Whoe'er  to  fuch  a  life  is  ty'd, 
Was  born  the  day  he  fhould  have  dy'd  v 
Born  in  an  hour  when  angry  fpheres 

Were  tearing  caps,  or  pulling  ears : 

H  And 


[    26      ] 

And  Saturn  flow  'gainft  fwift  Mercurius, 
Was  meditating  battles  furious  5 
Or  comets  with  their  blazing  train, 
Decreed  their  life,  a  life  of  pain. 


Upon  a  very  ANCIENT  DUTCH    HOUSE  on 
LONG- ISLAND. 

BEHOLD  this  antique  dome  by  envious  time, 
Grown  crazy,  and  in  ev'ry  part  decay'd  ; 
Full  well,  alas,  it  claims  my  humble  rhyme, 
For  fuch  lone  haunts  and  contemplation  made. 

Ah  fee  the  hearth,   where  once  the  chearful  fire 
Blaz'd  high,  and  warm'd  the  winter  trav'lers  toes ; 
And  fee  the  walls,   which  once  did  high  afpire, 
Admit  the  ftorms,  and  ev'ry  wind  that  blows. 

In  yonder  corner,  now  to  ruin  gone, 
The  ancient  houfewife's  curtain'd  bed  appear'd, 
Where  (he  and  her  man  JOHN  did  deep  alone, 
Nor  nightly  robber,  nor  the  fcreech  owl  fear'd. 

There 


There  did  they  fnore  full  oft*  the  whole  night  out, 
Smoking  the  fable  pipe,  'till  that  did  fall, 
Reft  from  their  jaws  by  Somnus'  fleepy  rout, 
And  on  their  faces  pour'd  its  fcorched  gal!. 

And  in  the  compafs  of  yon'  fmaller  gang, 
The  fwain  BATAVIAN  once  hiscourtfhip  made, 
To  fome  DUTCH  lafs,  as  thick  as  Ihe  was  long; 
"  Come  then,  my  angel,  come,  the  fhepherd  faid, 

"  And  let  us  for  the  bridal  bed  prepare ; 
For  you  alone  fhall  eafe  my  future  life, 
And  you  alone  Ihall  foften  all  my  care, 
My  ftrong,  my  hearty,  and  induftrious  wife." 

Thus  they — but  eating  ruin  now  hath  fpread 
Its  wings  deftruclive  o'er  the  antique  dome; 
The  mighty  fabrick  now  is  all  a  fhed, 
Scarce  fit  to  be  the  wand'ring  beggar's  home. 

And  none  but  me  it's  piteous  fate  lament, 
None,  none  but  me  o'er  it's  fad  afhes  mourn, 
Sent  by  the  fates,  and  by  APOLLO  fent, 
To  filed  their  lateft  tears  upon  it's  filent  um. 


ERRATA. 

Page  2,  Line  5,  for  bore,  read  borne. 

2,  17,  for  enrage,  read  engage. 

4,  18,  dele  the. 

4,  19,  for  or,  read  nor. 

4,  23,  for  conclufive,  read  convulfive. 

16,  10,  for  clafs,  read  clafps. 

1 6,  21,  for  he,  read  me. 


Bibliographical   Data 

by 

Victor  Hugo  Paltsits 

Assistant  Librarian 
in  the  New  York  Public  Library 


Bibliographical  Data  [  57  ] 

ON  November  22,  1772,  Freneau  wrote  a 
letter  to  his  friend  James  Madison,  after 
wards  President  of  the  United  States,  of 
which  the  first  page  is  reproduced  in  this  volume  in 
facsimile.  Among  other  things  he  said  :  "  I  have 
printed  a  poem  in  New  York  called  the  American 
Village,  containing  about  450  Lines,  also  a  few 
short  pieces  added  ;  I  would  send  you  one  if  I  had 
a  proper  opportunity  —  the  additional  poems  are, — 
i.  a  Poem  to  the  Nymph  I  never  saw  —  The 
miserable  Life  of  a  Pedagogue  —  and  Stanzas  on  an 
ancient  Dutch  house  on  Long  Island — As  to  the 
main  poem  it  is  damned  by  all  good  and  judicious 
judges — My  name  is  in  the  title  page,  this  is  called 
Vanity  by  some  —  but  'who  so  fond  as  youthful 
bards  of  fame?'  This  information  was  definite 
enough,  but  no  extant  copy  of  the  first  separately- 
printed  work  of  "  The  Poet  of  the  American  Revo 
lution  "  was  known  by  American  bibliographers  and 
literary  specialists  prior  to  November,  1902,  at 
which  time  I  was  engaged  in  the  preparation  of  my 
Freneau  bibliography  and  submitted  a  list  of  queries 
to  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  one  of  which  sought 
to  learn  whether  the  national  library  possessed  a 
copy  of  The  American  Village.  By  a  singularly  for 
tunate  concourse  of  events,  that  library  had  just  then 


[  58  ]  Bibliographical  Data 

(November,  1902)  purchased  a  volume  of  miscella 
neous  pamphlets,  one  of  which  proved  to  be  the 
gem  for  which  I  had  been  angling  hopelessly.  In 
the  latter  part  of  December,  while  in  Washington, 
I  was  able  to  collate  this  copy  de  visu,  and  the 
results  were  published  shortly  thereafter.*  The 
copy  now  reproduced  in  facsimile  has  come  to  light 
still  more  recently,  and  has  been  acquired  by  the 
John  Carter  Brown  Library,  of  Providence.  The 
original  pamphlet  collates  analytically  as  follows : 

% 

Title,  verso  blank ;  "  The  American  Village,  &c.,"  pp. 
[i] — 1 8  ;  "The  Farmer's  Winter  Evening,  A  Poem.  To 
the  Nymph  I  never  saw,"  pp.  19-22;  "The  Miserable 
Life  of  a  Pedagogue,"  pp.  22-26  ;  "  Upon  a  very  ancient 
Dutch  House  on  Long-Island,"  pp.  26-27 ;  "  Errata," 
seven  lines,  on  verso  of  p.  27.  Signatures:  Title,  with 
stub,  one  leaf,  and  B-H  in  twos.  The  John  Carter  Brown 
Library  copy  does  not  show  the  stub. 

The  printers  of  the  pamphlet  were  Samuel  Inslee 
and  Anthony  Car,  of  the  city  of  New  York.  They 
were  young  men  who  had  been  in  the  employ  of 

*  Bibliography  of  the  Separate  and  Collected  Works  of  Philip  Freneau. 
New  York:  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company,  1903.  The  title-page 
was  also  reproduced  in  facsimile  as  a  frontispiece  to  the  de  Luxe 
edition. 


Bibliographical  Data  [  59  ] 

James  Parker  of  New  York,  and  Car  had  served 
his  apprenticeship  in  Parker's  printing  office.* 
Parker  died  in  Burlington,  N.  J.,  on  June  24, 
1770,  and  his  newspaper,  The  New-Tork  Gazette; 
or,  The  Weekly  Post-Boy,  appeared  on  July  2,  1770 
(No.  1435),  for  the  last  time  with  his  name  in  the 
colophon.  Beginning  with  the  next  number,  July 
9,  and  until  August  6,  inclusive,  no  printer's  name 
was  mentioned  in  the  issues,  yet  they  were  without 
doubt  put  forth  under  the  auspices  of  Parker's  son, 
as  shown  later  on.  In  No.  1441,  for  Monday, 
August  13,  1770,  the  following  colophon  appeared: 
"NEW  YORK:  Printed  by  SAMUEL  INSLEE, 
and  ANTHONY  CAR,  At  the  NEW  PRINTING- 
OFFICE  in  BEAVER-STREET,  where  all  Sorts  of 
Printing  Work  is  done  in  the  neateft  Manner,  with 
Care  and  Expedition, —  and  where  Subfcriptions, 
Advertifements,  &c.  for  this  Paper  are  taken  in." 
In  the  issue  for  August  20,  they  made  their  first 
address  to  the  public  in  the  following  words : 

"To  the  PUBLIC. 

THE   Business  of  this  Printing-Office  having  de 
volved  by  the  Death  of  JAMES  PARKER,   (the  late 

*Thomas.   History  of  Printing  in  America.  Vol.  I  (Albany,  N.  Y., 
1 8  74)i  P-  3°6- 


[  60  ]  Bibliographical  Data 

Proprietor  of  this  Paper)  on  his  Son  SAMUEL  F. 
PARKER,  who  rinding  the  Prosecution  of  it  at  pres 
ent  inconvenient,  has  leased  the  Office  for  a  Term 
of  Years  to  the  Subscribers,  who  propose  to  carry 
on  the  Business  in  as  extensive  a  Manner  as  it  has 
hitherto  been  done.  As  they  are  young  Beginners, 
they  hope  in  particular  for  the  Countenance  of  those 
who  have  kindly  encouraged  the  said  Office  in 
Times  past,  and  humbly  sollicit  the  Favour  of  the 
respectable  Public  in  general,  assuring  them  that 
nothing  shall  be  wanting  on  their  Parts,  to  render 
the  Paper  as  useful  and  entertaining  as  any  on  the 
Continent.  They  declare  moreover,  in  the  most 
explicit  Manner,  that  it  shall  ever  be  sacred  to  the 
Cause  of  Truth  and  Liberty,  and  never  be  prosti 
tuted  to  the  purposes  of  Party,  but  be  equally  free 
for  all  who  vouchsafe  to  have  their  Productions 
inserted  ;  and  no  Compositions  shall  be  refused  a 
Place,  but  what  are  defamatory  on  private  Charac 
ters,  inconsistent  with  the  Rules  of  Decorum,  or 
unfriendly  to  Religion  and  good  Morals.  All  Fa 
vours  will  be  gratefully  acknowledged,  by 

The  Public  s  humble  Servants, 

SAMUEL  INSLEE, 
ANTHONY  CAR." 


Bibliographical  Data  [  6 1  ] 

At  this  time  Inslee  and  Car  were  still  occupants 
of  Parker's  old  premises  in  Beaver  Street,  but  on 
February  25,  1771,  this  house  was  advertised  "to 
be  lett "  and  to  be  "  entered  on  the  first  of  May 
next."  The  printers  informed  their  customers,  on 
March  25,  of  their  intention  to  remove  "on  the 
First  of  May  next  ...  to  Beekman's-Slip,  in  the 
House  now  in  the  Tenure  of  Mr.  John  Laboy- 
teaux,  and  next  Door  to  Mr.  Huybert  Van  Wag- 
enen."  Here  they  occupied  a  "Part  of  the  House" 
and,  on  May  6,  1771,  the  first  issue  of  their  news 
paper  with  the  new  address  appeared. 

From  a  notice  which  was  printed  in  the  Post 
Boy,  for  August  19,  1771,  we  have  positive  evidence 
that  their  copartnership  took  form  with  the  issue  of 
August  13,  1770,  and  that  the  few  issues  preceding 
that  number  were  sent  out  by  Samuel  Franklin 
Parker.  In  this  notice,  dated  at  the  "  New 
Printing-Office,  Beekman's  Slip,  August  19,  1771," 
Inslee  and  Car  inform  their  readers  that  "Last 
Week's  Paper  [August  12]  completed  Twelve 
Months  since  the  Printers  of  this  Paper  first  en 
tered  on  the  Business  of  this  Office,"  and  they 
claimed  to  have  then  "near  1,000"  customers. 

The  place  of  imprint  given  on  the  title-page  of 
The  American  Village,  namely,  "  on  Moor's  Wharf," 


[  62  ]  Bibliographical  Data 

was  their  printing  office  "  adjoining  Beekman's 
Slip,"  and  here  they  continued  during  the  remain 
der  of  their  copartnership,  which  terminated  on 
August  13,  1773,  after  completing  the  third  year  of 
its  existence.  Besides  printing  the  newspaper  and 
the  publications  listed  at  the  end  of  this  article, 
Inslee  and  Car  carried  on  the  business  of  selling 
books  and  "  Articles  in  the  Stationer's  Way."  They 
suffered  the  hardships  usually  associated  with  their 
calling  in  their  generation.  The  newspapers  were 
delivered  to  customers,  but  payment  was  deferred  or 
denied  by  many  of  them.  On  June  8,  1772,  after 
a  period  of  nearly  two  years,  "  not  above  one  Third 
of  their  Customers  "  had  paid  the  first  year's  sub 
scription.  The  printers  reminded  them  that  they 
"  began  with  a  small  Capital  "  and  urged  them  to 
"  chearfully  comply "  with  the  "  reasonable  Re 
quest  "  to  pay  up,  in  order  to  enable  them  to  con 
tinue  in  business.  Such  epistolary  hints  from  our 
colonial  printers  were  of  periodical  recurrence. 
They  used  every  subterfuge  to  attack  the  dull  con 
sciences  of  their  delinquent  customers.  For  exam 
ple,  Inslee  and  Car,  on  March  2,  1772,  had  urged 
the  necessity  of  being  "absolutely  obliged  to  make 
up  a  considerable  Sum  of  Money  before  the  first 
Day  of  May  next,"  and  added :  "  All  the  Money 


Bibliographical  Data  [  63  ] 

that  the  Printers  have  yet  received  for  News  Papers, 
has  not  paid  for  one  Half  of  the  Paper  that  they 
have  been  printed  on,  which  is  an  Article  that  can 
not  be  had  without  ready  Cash/'  Yet,  we  have  seen 
that  May  had  gone  by  and  left  two-thirds  of  the 
previous  year's  bills  unpaid.  On  September  7,  1772, 
they  plead  that  after  two  years  of  publication  "not 
one  Half  of  their  Subscribers  have  paid  them  for 
one  Year,"  and  add,  "  Paper  cannot  be  had  without 
ready  Money  ; — Journeymen  cannot  be  employed 
without  weekly  Payment ;  Landlords  will  not  be 
contented  without  Quarterly  Rents,  &c.  and  yet  we 
only  ask  our  Payment  once  a  Year."  To  add  to 
this  dilemma,  thieves  broke  into  their  printing-office 
in  October  of  that  year  and  looted  it  of  money  and 
other  articles.  Now  the  upshot  of  this  matter  was 
the  failure  of  the  business.  There  must  have  been 
forebodings  of  this  outcome  early  in  the  year  1773, 
because  on  April  8  of  that  year,  Samuel  F.  Parker 
and  John  Anderson,  having  entered  into  a  copartner 
ship,  proposed  the  resumption  of  the  issue  of  the 
newspaper  in  August,  when  the  third  year's  lease  to 
Inslee  and  Car  would  expire.  Anderson  was  already 
printing  at  "the  lower  Corner  of  Beekman's-Slip," 
a  neighbor  of  the  others,  in  May,  1773,  and  did 
actually  issue  the  Post-Boy  in  partnership  with 


[  64  ]  Bibliographical  Data 

Parker,  although  not  a  single  copy  of  this  period  is 
known  to  be  in  existence. 

Upon  the  dissolution  of  the  partnership  of  Inslee 
and  Car  opposing  advertisements  were  inserted  in 
virtually  all  of  the  contemporary  newspapers  of  New 
York  City,  and  the  following,  from  Game's  New- 
Tork  Gazette ;  and  the  Weekly  Mercury," .for  August 
1 6,  are  the  best  samples  : — 

"THOSE  Gentlemen  and  others,  who  are  indebted 
to  the  PARTNERSHIP  of  INSLEE  and  CAR,  (which 
expired  the  1 3th  Instant)  are  desired  to  stop  Pay 
ment,  till  the  Accounts  relating  to  the  Partnership 
are  settled ;  of  which  public  Notice  will  be  given  in 
this  Paper  by 

ANTHONY  CAR." 

"  ALL  Persons  indebted  to  the  Partnership  of 
INSLEE  and  CAR,  are  hereby  informed,  that  they 
cannot  with  Safety  settle  or  pay  their  Accounts  to 
any  other  Person  than  the  Subscriber,  who  has  the 
Books  in  his  Hands,  and  who  only  can  give  a  proper 
Discharge. 

SAMUEL  INSLEE." 

In  September   Car  adverted  to  the  disagreement 


Bibliographical  Data  [  65  ] 

in  another  newspaper  notice,  to  which  Inslee  re 
plied  in  Holt's  New-Tork  Journal,  of  September  9, 
as  follows: 

"To  the  Public  in  general,  but  in  particular,  to  the 
Subscribers  to  Inslee  and  Car's  Gazettee. 

IN  an  Addition,  (published  in  Parker  and  Ander 
son's  Paper  of  last  Monday)  which  my  late  Partner, 
Anthony  Car  has  made  to  his  Advertisement,  he  has 
equally  manifested  his  Ignorance  and  the  Malevo 
lence  of  his  Disposition  towards  me —  He  says  he  is 
assured  some  Persons  have  paid  me  Money  since  the 
Dissolution  of  the  Partnership,  and  hopes  no  Person 
will  ATTEMPT  to  pay  any  more  until  Accounts 
are  properly  settled. — Now,  how  he  expects  to  have 
the  Accounts  settled,  is  a  Mystery  to  me,  for  he  will 
not  come  near  me,  altho'  I  have  frequently  sent  for 
him  on  that  Account — I  have  also  repeatedly  sent 
him  Word,  I  was  willing  to  deliver  the  Books  of 
the  Partnership  into  the  Hands  of  any  two  credit 
able  Persons  in  this  City,  (one  of  whom  he  should 
choose)  for  them  to  settle,  and  to  say  in  whose 
Favour  the  Balance  was ; — but  Car  knowing  within 
himself,  he  should  fall  more  in  my  Debt  than  he 
should  ever  be  able  to  pay,  still  declines  making 
choice  of  any  Person  to  take  the  Books ; — and  at 


[  66  ]  Bibliographical  Data 

the  same  Time  keeps  himself  close,  so  that  I  have 
no  Opportunity  of  settling  with  him ; — and  yet  he 
has  the  Confidence  to  advertise  against  any  Person's 
paying  me  Money. — 

As  I  cannot  have  the  Pleasure  of  seeing  Mr.  Car, 
I  hereby  inform  him,  that  if  he  does  not  come  and 
settle  with  me,  I  shall  be  under  an  immediate  Ne 
cessity  of  using  Measures  to  oblige  him  to  it,  which 
will  be  very  disagreeable  to  him,  as  well  as  to  me. 

I  also  now  beg  Leave  to  Inform  the  Ladies  and 
Gentlemen  who  were  Subscribers  to  our  Paper,  or 
who  otherwise  employed  us  on  Credit,  that  they 
may  with  the  greatest  Safety,  pay  their  Accounts  to 
the  Subscriber,  who  will  give  a  proper  Discharge 
for  any  Debt  they  may  owe  the  Partnership,  which 
will  be  gratefully  acknowledged  by  one  who  always 
hopes  to  prove  himself,  the  Public's  most  obedient, 
and  obliged  humble  servant, 

SAMUEL  INSLEE." 

New -York,  ) 

Sept.  8,  1773.) 

We  have  discovered  that  Inslee  was  among  those 
who  signed  the  non-importation  agreement  in  New 
York,  on  July  23,  1770.  Later  we  find  him  em 
ployed  by  Isaac  Collins,  of  Trenton,  N.  J.,  and 


Bibliographical  Data  [  67  ] 

while  there  he  committed  suicide,  as  the  following 
brief  entry  in  Shepard  Kollock's  New  Jersey  Jour 
nal,  for  Wednesday,  March  27,  1782,  witnesses: 
"CHATHAM,  March  27.  Monday  the  i8th 
instant,  Samuel  Inslee,  printer,  at  Trenton,  shot 
himself  through  the  head  —  Insanity,  it  is  supposed, 
had  got  the  empire  over  his  Reason,  which  occa 
sioned  him  to  commit  this  rash  act/'  Of  the  sub 
sequent  career  of  Car  nothing  has  been  discovered. 
The  following  list  is  offered  tentatively  as  a  con 
tribution  to  the  issues  of  the  press  of  Inslee  and  Car, 
and  of  all  save  Bard's  Enquiry  and  the  Freneau  no 
copies  are  known  to  be  extant.  No  files  of  the 
Post  Boy  for  1773  having  been  found,  other  titles 
for  that  year  could  not  be  determined. 

1770 

The  American  Country  Almanac,  For  the  Year 
1771.  By  Roger  More,  Philodespot.  [Adver 
tised  in  the  Post  Boy,  for  October  15,  1770,  as 
"  Just  Published  .  .  .  Price  35.  6d.  per  Dozen, 
or  6d.  single."] 

Roger  More's  Americaanse  Almanak  Voor  't  Jaar 
na  Christi  Geboorte  1771.  [Advertised  in  the 


[  68  ]  Bibliographical  Data 

Post  Boy,  for  October  15,  1770,  "to  be  delivered 
Monday  next/'] 

An  Elegiac  Poem,  On  the  Death  of  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Whitefield,  Wrote  by  Phillis,  a  Servant  Girl  of 
17  Years  of  Age,  belonging  to  Mr.  Wheatley,  of 
Boston.  [Advertised  in  the  Post  Boy,  for  October 
30,  1770,  as  "Just  Published/'  and  no  doubt  re 
printed  from  the  eight-page  edition  published  in 
Boston  by  Ezekiel  Russell  and  John  Boyles.] 

1771 

The  Speech  of  the  Honourable  Robert  R.  Living 
ston,  Esq ;  Made  on  the  25th  of  January,  in 
Support  of  his  Claim  to  a  Seat  in  the  House  of 
the  General  Assembly.  [Advertised  in  the  Post 
Boy,  for  February  1 1 ,  1771,  and  undoubtedly  a 
broadside.] 

A  Vindication  of  the  Rights  of  Election,  Containing 
an  Answer  to  a  Paper,  entitled,  "  The  Sentiments 
of  a  Free  and  Independent  Elector/'  [Advertised 
in  the  Post  Boy,  for  March  18,  1771,  and  evi 
dently  a  pamphlet.] 

An  Enquiry  into  the  Nature,  Cause  and  Cure,  of 
the  Angina  Suffocativa,  or,  Sore  Throat  Dis- 


Bibliographical  Data  [  69  ] 

temper,  As  it  is  commonly  called  by  the  In 
habitants  of  this  City  and  Colony.  By  Samuel 
Bard,  M.  D.  And  Professor  of  Medicine  in 
King's  College,  New  York.  New  York,  1771. 
[Advertised  in  the  Post  Boy,  for  April  29,  1771, 
as  "This  Day  is  published."  A  facsimile  of  the 
title-page  of  this  treatise  on  diphtheria  is  given  in 
Hildeburn's  Sketches  of  Printers  and  Printing  in 
Colonial  New  Torkl\ 

Poor  Roger's  American  Country  Almanack,  for  the 
Year  1772.  [Advertised  in  the  Post  Boyy  for 
November  11,  1771.] 

1772 

The  American  Village,  A  Poem.  To  which  are 
added,  Several  other  original  Pieces  in  Verse. 
By  Philip  Freneau,  A.  B.  New  York,  1772. 
[Not  advertised  for  sale  in  the  Post  Boy ;  perhaps 
printed  privately  for  the  author.] 

Poor  Roger's  Almanack  for  the  Year  1773.  [Ad 
vertised  in  the  Post  Boy,  for  November  30  and 
December  7,  1772,  as  "now  in  the  Press,  and  in 
a  few  Days  may  be  had  of  the  Printers  of  this 
Paper."] 


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